Gravity
by BonJeanne
Summary: My take on Stevie falling out of a tree.


He sees the last five feet of her fall, her tiny body hurtling towards the ground, her little limbs flailing. She lands on her feet but isn't quick enough to catch her balance, so she falls forward and rolls once, twice before she stops. She's sprawled on her back and doesn't move.

"Stevie!" Henry shouts. He sprints over to her, he feels although his heart is both racing and stopping at the same time. The only evidence that she's alive is the rise and fall of her little chest. He hovers over his daughter protectively, torn between his first-aid training and his overwhelming instinct to cradle her in his arms. He settles for something in the middle and strokes a comforting hand across her forehead. Her eyes meet his, brimming with tears.

"Daddy!" Stevie shrieks. As much as Henry's heart breaks that she's in pain, a part of him is relieved that she's at least coherent.

"Stevie? Sweetheart? Can you hear me?" Rationally, he knows that if she's speaking, her heart is beating, but he places his hand on her chest anyway. The quick thumping against his palm is somewhat reassuring.

"Can you hear me?" Henry repeats.

"Yes," Stevie whimpers.

"I need you to follow my finger with your eyes, okay?" He holds his index finger in front of her and moves it slowly. Her eyes trail the path with ease. "Good girl. It's not blurry or fuzzy or anything?"

"No." Her tears are coming at a steady pace now, the droplets wetting her cheeks. Henry tries to wipe them away, but only successes in smudging dirt on her face. It doesn't matter, though, as the action seems to soothe her.

"Can you wiggle your fingers and toes for me?" She does, and he makes her move every limb until he's fairly certain that nothing is broken. She sits up, curling against his chest. He scoops her up, and she presses her face to his collarbone, her little hands clinging to his neck.

"It hurts, Daddy," she mumbles with a weak voice.

"I know baby, I know. We're gonna go home." Henry carries her to the car, cradling her in his arms, her body as light and fragile and delicate as the day she was born. He gentle buckles her into her booster seat and hops into the front seat, resolving to floor it the entire way.

Except for the occasional sniffle, Stevie is silent on the drive home. Henry spends more time glancing at her in the rearview mirror than he spends watching the road. They pull up to their house not five minutes later after a drive that normally takes at least eight. Henry picks her up, and drapes herself over his shoulder like a wet rag. He carries her into the house and sets her down on the kitchen counter. As he's bending down to pull out the first-aid kit from under the sink, she asks, "Can I have Missy?"

Henry stands back up, a soft smile on his face. "Of course, sweetheart. Why don't you pick out some band-aids for these boo-boos while I get her?"

Stevie nods and dumps out the entire box of band-aids. She begins sorting them carefully, placing them into categories that only she can understand. Henry walks up the stairs to her room to retrieve the beloved penguin stuffed animal that his mother sent it as soon as Elizabeth announced that they were expecting. He returns to the kitchen, Missy in hand to find that Stevie had picked out three Disney princess band-aids, one for each scrape. Henry runs warm water over the scratches, cooing soft praise to keep her calm. He tries them off and expertly covers the injuries with antiseptic. After covering up each scrape, he places a gentle kiss on each band-aid.

"All better?" he asks.

"All better," Stevie agrees.

"Do you want to watch 'Beauty and the Beast?'"

She nods, and he gets the movie set up. Soon, they're snuggled together on the couch, Stevie on her father's lap, swaddled in a blanket and singing along to the upbeat opening number. Henry is suddenly overcome by a wave of relief that his baby girl is okay. He wraps his arms around her a little tighter and swallows the lump in his throat. He could have lost her today.

"Daddy?" Stevie asks, her voice so soft and small he almost doesn't hear it over singing anthropomorphic cutlery.

"Yes, baby?"

"When is Mommy coming home?"

 _Elizabeth. Shit._ He had completely forgotten to notify his wife about the near-death accident. Before he can answer, the front door opens.

"I'm home!" Elizabeth calls through the hall, her tone carefree and easygoing. She steps into the living room and sees Henry and their daughter watching a movie, something usually reserved for Friday nights. "Babe?"

He can't stop the tears that flood his vision, the fear of the fall finally catching up to him. Elizabeth meets his gaze, and her expression turns from confused to anxious.

"Stevie?" Henry asks, struggling to keep his voice as neutral as possible.

"Hm?"

"I'm going to talk to Mommy for a few minutes. We'll just be in our bedroom. You can come get us if you need, okay?"

"Okay." He lifts her off of his lap and puts her down on the couch. Elizabeth grabs his hand and lead his to the bedroom, closing the door behind them.

"Henry, what happened?" She sounds breathy and her eyebrows are creased with worry.

"Stevie and I went to the park," he chokes. "She… She fell out of a tree." His knees buckle, Elizabeth wraps her arms around his waist to keep him upright. He cries into her shoulder, and words begin to spill out of his mouth. "It was my fault. I can't believe I let this happen."

"Henry… Baby." She cradles the base of his skull with her hand and strokes the hair at the nape of his neck.

"She could have died today." A fresh wave of tears flood out of his eyes and onto his wife's shirt.

"Shh…" she soothes. "That must have been really scary, Henry."

"I'm a terrible father. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." He buries his face further into her shoulder, desperate to be surrounded by her comforting presence.

"Don't say that, you're a wonderful father. And don't apologize! Stevie is okay, and that's what matters," Elizabeth says, supporting most of her husband's weight. Henry's tears slow as her words sink in. _Stevie is okay._ He takes a deep breath and sinks further into his wife's embrace. She traces small circles into his back, and, damn, he loves her more than he ever thought possible.

There's a knock on their door. Henry takes a step back, but keeps his hands around her waist. Stevie walks in, Missy in hand, and says, "Mommy?"

"Yes, baby?"

"Can I have some ice cream? Pretty please?"

Henry smiles at Elizabeth. _Someone's feeling better._

* * *

Let me know what you think! I love McCords in parenting mode.


End file.
